Brontide
by FroggyFeet
Summary: When Zevran appears during the annulment of the Circle, he is beside a Warden. One that Anders had hoped to never see again.


_"There can be no turning back."_

Hawke hit him again. There was a rage, bubbling deep inside his guts, so hot he didn't know if it was burning his skin off yet or not. He felt it eating, slowly devouring his soft parts, pushing hard against the inner edges of his ribs, tearing up his throat in an odd twisting caress. Even Fenris was trying to pull him away.

Anders hit the floor, eyes downcast, voice low.

"I did what I had to. Mage's need to be free. They'll kill us all otherwise. Lock us up, shut us away until we love our cages more than our own lives. The Templars would have all come to Alrik's solution in the end. It would have come to this one way or another. They are always waiting to put the blade in."

"And you gave them the sword."

Hawke's head kept jerking, twisting in barely held rage, eyes wide and nostrils flaring. "You polished it, checked the balance and handed it over on a gilded platter. You signed our death warrant with that stunt, O grand Healer! You murdered so many innocents… and so many more! When word reaches the other Circles, there'll be fucking hell to pay," the man shook his head, mouth tightening, "And you set us up to take the fall. You've lit our funeral pyre, and thought that I'd let you out easy. Well fuck you! When we find Meredith, I'll throw you to her in exchange for the Circle."

"Oh dear, Hawke he is all of those things, but-"

"Merrill, I'm sorry. But he isn't even a man anymore."

Hawke turned on his heel, and walked away.

* * *

xxx

* * *

"Saved by my baby brother. I'll never hear the end of it if Varric gets the story out like planned."

Carver shrugged, "You've been letting yourself go Brother. Your gut looks like Gamlen's now. And besides, it's hard enough to take down abominations; they don't need get a hearty meal of your fat ass, too. Then again, maybe it would have given them a stomach ache and killed them all. Then I could finally have a damn drink."

"I've missed you, you asshat."

"I've missed you too."

"Even though you're a big bad Warden now, I need you to promise me something."

"What? Rub your feet after we win? That's really not gonna happen."

"Don't die."

"As if a bunch of mage flowers could kill me. Demon assistance or not."

"I mean it. I don't work well alone, you know that. I'd be lost without you. We are all we have left of a family, Carver."

"I know. But that promise is a double edged blade, Aalam."

* * *

xxx

* * *

"And here we are champion. At long last."

The fires were burning, even in the Gallows.

It was a cold stare that greeted them, but Anders didn't shy from Meredith, and neither did Hawke. Fenris and Varric didn't even twitch when they spotted the regular gait, the swagger, the flicker of a staff being released. They were used to Hawke's unflappable confidence.

"And here I thought that you'd use lackeys to fight us off. I'm impressed." The almost crazed twisting jerk of his head, one that seemed to develop after Leandra died, occurred. "But not by much."

The unnerving stare that accompanied it made the half-crazed Meredith growl. "Of course not. You were never a part of this circle. You have always been an apostate thorn in my side, and I have tolerated that for years. After you were made champion, it seemed to get worse. Especially after that debacle with Thrask, where an entire squad of my Templars were corrupted by magi filth. I'm tired of always having to dig around for blood mages and demons in this pit. I'm tired of having to answer families who have been decimated by rogue magic and free mages. If there was a mage alive that could control themselves, that was completely indomitable to corruption, then I wouldn't be here. The Circle would be obsolete if mages were simply stronger in heart and duty. The reason why there is a system, is because you mages just can't help but turn knee to demonic influence. At least after this," Meredith's frown worsened, "You can't hurt anyone else."

"ANDERS."

The entire congregation turned, half shuddered into barely stopped action, jittery in their armours and robes. The tiny elf yelled again, and again, eyes flaring, bright red hair a blaze on his head. That same strange golden elf was at his side, another short, red-haired dwarf on his other.

"YOU FILTHY NUG-HUMPING SON OF A WHORE."

The mage himself blanched, attempted to dart away, quick enough that Hawke couldn't grab him when he reached. He made it five strides. The elf moved like lightning. Slammed a fist into the air to be level with his face, brought up his opposing leg into a short, tight kick. Not missing a beat, he carried on storming towards the now shaking blonde, eyes nearly as fierce as a crazed woman's.

Anders was encased in stone.

It wasn't until he punched Anders straight in the jaw did Meredith speak, strained.

"Apostate-"

"Commander of the Grey, actually. And I'm in the middle of something the Wardens call _discipline_. If your Templars had any, they would have understood the **_Warden's uniform_**, and not attacked me as they did at the gates of this cesspool. It really makes me laugh how you Templars love order, and yet most of them are raping and pillaging the local magical community as we speak."

The woman's mouth shut with a snap, eyes wide.

He turned to Anders then, the mage visibly recoiling.

"You! You slaughtered **my men**. Wardens, like you! Rolan was a templar, the keyword being **was**. All because of all that shit in the tower! I told you when I conscripted you! We leave our pasts behind when we become wardens! Everything that made us who we are is burnt when we join! You aren't a Circle mage anymore Anders! You are a Warden!"

The elf took a single, threatening step forward, "And nobody leaves the wardens. Not even a cur like you."

"Commander! Darrian, I-"

"You what? You FUCKING WHAT ANDERS? YOU EXPLICITLY IGNORED MY ORDERS TO LEAVE WELL EOUGH ALONE WHEN IT CAME TO SPIRITUAL BONDING! I EVEN HAD WYNNE LECTURE YOU ABOUT THE CONSEQUENCES! EVEN SHE ISNT RETARDED ENOUGH TO INVITE A FUCKING FADE BEAST INTO HER BODY, AND SHES NEARLY EIGHTY! YOU BONDED WITH JUSTICE AGAINST MY EXPRESS FUCKING CONCERN, AND THEN YOU BLOW YOUR LID AND KILL MY MEN?! WHO THE FLMAING HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?! HOW DARE YOU EVEN CALL THAT THING JUSTICE ANYMORE! HE'S SO TAINTED WITH YOUR NEED TO REGAIN SOME KIND OF MANLY PRIDE, THAT HE ISNT EVEN JUSTICE ANYMORE. HES JUST A PETTY LITTLE-"

"Commander, I am still-"

"Don't feed me that shit! I wasn't born yesterday! You are not the spirit I met in the Blackmarsh. You are everything you claim to hate. Where is the justice for the innocent, humble Templars who only wish to protect the citizenry? Where is the justice for the common man, scared of blood magic, who died tonight because of a **MAKER-HELP-ME** Apostate? Well?" The elf took a breath, well, was gulping for air after his rant, but from the pained, almost sympathetic look that Zevran was shooting the abomination, Hawke guessed that the Commander wasn't done.

"You killed an entire battalion of my Wardens. **Why**?"

"Rolan turned on me after the rite."

That wasn't the right answer. The commander seemed to stiffen, much like a fallen log, eyes wide, moth ajar. "So, you mean to tell me you wasted fifty Wardens,_ fifty of your Brothers and Sisters in arms_, because you were scared of a Templar?"

The abomination looked away.

"You should really be asking why there is a war between the Circle and the Templar Order, Darian."

The group, still slightly shocked at the outburst and sudden appearance of a certain Warden-Commander, silently looked to the approaching figure of Nathaniel Howe. The man looked the same as always, scornful glare centred on the long-rival Anders. "He blew up the Chantry a few hours ago, killing the local Grand Cleric and countless Sisters and Brothers of the chant. The Knight-Commander has ordered the immediate annulment of the Kirkwall Circle."

There was an almost comical crack as the small, red-headed time-bomb of an elf snapped back to stare at his captive.

Until he started laughing savagely.

"The one who wanted us to be free the most!? And you just ruined our last chance at being free! Want to know what was on the table until you decided to set it on fire? Mages in Ferelden are finally being respected. The King was planning to have the laws slackened, have the Templar and mage relations strengthened to the point where there didn't need to be a right of tranquillity anymore! I have spent the last few years bargaining for the new Knight-Commander of the Ferelden Circle and First Enchanter to form an alliance to stop blood magic and demon worshiping. They have trained the Tranquil as soldiers, brought up the Harrowing success rate to Seventy-three percent. Want to know why? Because they have renounced their fear and walk side by side! And you," The elf gripped his jaw with a pale, white-clawed fist. "You just hammered the last nail in the coffin. We will never be free, because you have just branded all mages as heartless beasts able to do anything."

The commander let go, backed away, and with a baleful glare, "You just set every mage to be born in the next century up to be drowned as a child. Congratulations."

"When Duncan came to the tower with a Warden sign-up sheet, I almost jumped the old fool. I wanted to fight Darkspawn, prove that mages deserve to be free. That we can be dedicated members of society. To not fear our magic. I ended up dragging up an army, felling an Archdemon and countless other monsters for that end. I nearly succeeded in ushering in a new age for mages in Ferelden. All this time I've been trying to make people proud to be mages! To not be scared anymore! _**I did that! Me!** _Not any ridiculous **ragdoll** that can't tell what **patch** of consciousness is what anymore! You say that you are free, but all I see is a fool shackling himself to the wolves. You want true freedom?** Earn it.** Work for it. Make it so that parents don't fear their children developing magic, make it so that Templars look upon us as equals, not cattle to be beaten and branded. **Blowing up a Tower** doesn't do that, and taking knee to a demon doesn't do that either. Stand up, dust off your knees and stop crying like a little bitch. Lots of mages get worse than you did. So don't give me your sob story about a mean old Templar who kicked you down the stairs. I've seen hundred of Templars eviscerated by battle mages. Telling people not to fear us is pointless. That is fucking scary. So can you understand why they kick us? Why they brand us and why they lock us away." The elf grabbed Anders by the arm, "We are fucking terrifying."

The mage shuddered.

"Carver," The Commander turned to him, eyes still tight, mouth drawn. "Good lad for defending your own. It's a rare gift these days."

"Knight-Commander, kill him if you want. Make it painful. Make it quick. I don't care. That sword is coming with me in exchange, however."

The eerie silence was almost palpable. Clammy and unnerving.

"What?"

"It is made with tainted lyrium. I'm surprised you haven't turned into a raving ghoul yet. I'm guessing you have been having moodswings, sudden cold chills, and irrational bouts of hunger, yes?"

"You…! How dare you! Another **mage** trying to worm his way into my mind! This sword allows me to exact the will of the maker on heretics! Such a weapon could never be tainted!"

"And yet here we are. Hand it over. I am in no mood to be trifled with today."

"Knight-Commander…"

The woman lunged, almost severing the hea from Cullen's shoulders as he spoke. The man seemed unfazed, eyes not even twitching from hers. "I defended you when Thrask was claiming you have become mad, but you need to understand. This isn't what the Order stands for. If you are unwell, then you should listen to the Warden. Mage or not."

"Even my own captain?" Meredith turned to glare, full-bodied from Hawke to Surana, eyes cold with the dark purple radiating from her blade. "You two! Working together to take my Templars under your rotting, unholy wings! But I-" She straightened, eyes losing that glow of lyrium to turn dull and black, "do not need any of you to fulfil the will of the Maker. Kneel, and I will send you to his arms swiftly and painlessly."

Hawke thought that the Commander would have replied, but Cullen did instead. The Templar moved to stand between them all, the mages and Templar Commander. "Then you'll have to go through me."

"Traitor! I will have your head!"

The woman let out a beastly, almost inhuman roar before she planted the black sword into the cracking stones of the Gallows forecourt. The glowing, ugly energy begun to pulsate, almost in time to her inane chanting. "_Blessed art thou who stand before the corrupt and the wicked, and do not falter_."

Surana seemed to smirk, head cocked arrogantly. "Couldn't have said it better myself."

He tapped the ground once with the strange, double-bladed staff on his back, freeing Anders and simultaneously activating the strange, pinkish hue that had begun to engulf him. "Champion. That's kind of a funny coincidence right now," the elf seemed to smile, before the sudden lurch of gravitation magic threw him and Oghren from the reach of Meredith's blade. Hawke set them a few metres away, already casting spells on his own party.

Fenris and Aveline were surging forwards, Zevran and Isabela close behind. Oghren joined them, and the long, gruelling fight began. The elf, seemingly amused by the ordeal all of a sudden, stuck with Hawke, flickering pink magic the only real indicator of where he was. The Warden was fast.

It wasn't until the metal sculptures started falling that a loud, raccuous laugh issued from him. "I BLOODY LOVE IT WHEN IT GETS INTERESTING."

Hawke found himself being drawn into that familiar mindset, and the two of them became a driving force on the battlefield. While the regular Templars battled animated statues, The two of them, astride with Merrill and Varric, used ranged attacks to throw off the huge constructions. Whenever Meredith had someone pinned, however, there was a joint attack that sent the woman flying.

In one instance, the woman managed to snag Zevran, and the Warden sprinted forwards. Hawke felt a tiny part of him worry, until he remembered the day at the beach when Grace took Carver.

The mage quivered, the pink haze suddenly fluctuating into a huge cloud, before the edge of the staff cut-

He cut off the entire arm.

Zevran fell on his feet, already darting away. There was a loud, almost painful boom as the Warden's rock-encased leg collided with the Templar's chest, sending her careering backwards. It was then that Hawke noticed the thin, bright streak of light at the end of Surana's staff, making it look like a makeshift sickle.

It would have been impressive, if a dark, charred hand hadn't replaced Meredith's missing one. Her eyes flickered red, until suddenly she was a crazed ball of energy, limbs shaking and her entire frame jerking. "I WILL HAVE ORDER."

It almost became impossible after that.

Surana became a permanent fixture to what Hawke deemed as the "Meredith Squad." He sent helpful healing spells and reinforced each member's weapons with frost magic, but he still felt uncertain.

Until the sickle caught Meredith straight in the face.

There was a sudden lurching groan from the lasting sculptures then, as Surana wiggled the gleaming red beam he had stuck vertically in her head, the flat wood of his weapon pinning her jaw shut. There was a harsh pop, and the blade shattered, the Warden twisting his face away from the resulting metal shards. It wasn't until the woman was a dried husk that the elf let his blade dissipate into the Fade.

Hawke went to step forwards, eyes glued to the carcass.

He didn't get far before the elf spoke.

"Do you know why I am so angry that you bonded with Justice, Anders?"

Hawke turned slightly to seethe blonde stood away from the group, back to them all. He didn't answer.

"Because you are a Warden. You are tainted, and the taint comes from The Black City. It began as a completely Spiritual force, which the Tevinters almost stopped. When the first of the Darkspawn exited the portal the Magisters opened to get to the Golden City, the Magisters who were left behind closed the gateway. The remaining Dawkspawn still in the Fade left using the Eluvians placed in both the Fade and physical world, and the blighted remains of the Magisters came through. It tainted both the Eluvians and where they sat. It is why the mirrors are considered evil, and typically sealed by the remaining Dalish tribes. But I get off topic," he turned to the abomination, eyes dark, "When the spirits of the Magisters crossed back to return to their forms, they brought the Blight with them. It corrupted their bodies, leaving them as raging monsters."

The elf took a single step to face the mage, but Anders still didn't turn. "We have that taint in us, Anders. That's why its unheard of to have many mages in the Wardens. Because for us, its harder to keep the Calling at bay. We succumb to it earlier than most, because of our deep connection to the Fade."

"What are you trying to say?"

"Justice isn't what he was. He's been tainted, just like us. That isn't Justice anymore. It's barely even Vengeance. It's the coupling of his magic and the taint that has been giving you less control, been wiping bits from your memory, that's had you do this."

"That's-"

"Ridiculous? Maybe. But it's the only way I can think of to explain why my friend murdered an entire Chantry. I remember when we used to go drinking, when I could give you scarves and cats and that earring I found! Back when you were just Anders. Not Anders plus one. I'm sorry I failed you."

"What do you-"

"I gave you the chance to make yourself into something better. I conscripted you so you didn't have the Templars breathing down your neck. I figured that you'd throw yourself into hunting the Darkspawn. I didn't think that I'd indirectly turn you into a monster. The price of hindsight, I suppose. Bah."

The elf turned to Hawke, "You do know that they'll blame you for all of this, right?"

The human frowned, "I should have killed him when I had the chance."

Surana smiled, small and tired. "That you didn't shows what kind of man you are. Having faith in your fellows isn't a bad thing. But when they betray that trust, well then that's their fault. Isn't it?"

The human shrugged.

The elf nodded once, "And just some advice. Keep that elf of yours close," he motioned with his head, towards Zevran, who simply threw his hands up in surrender, "I have one of my own. I regret it to this day. I'm always losing him and then having to find him again."

Hawke glanced to Fenris, who seemed undecided as to punch Surana or smile at the admonition of Zevran. He shrugged, "Mine glows. Kinda hard to lose such a bright little kitten."

The red-head actually laughed, "That sounds pretty awesome actually. I needed to get a bell installed on Zevran before I felt safe leaving him somewhere. Always sneaking around and pulling pranks!" his eyes turned sly, "Especially for such an old duck."

"Oh Warden you wound me! Such harsh words! I'll have you know that most of the shenanigans that happen in that fort are your own doing."

"Hey now, I taught the guards balance and poise."

"And also how to make a salve for frostbite."

"That was only once."

Hawke quirked a brow, "Frostbite?"

The little warden shrugged, "might have set a rune for frost under a few beds here and there. Gotta be ready for anything."

"Speaking of such," Fenris hummed, eyes darting back to the Templars surrounding Meredith, "It might be about time to leave. Lest we ready ourselves for another fight."

The group unanimously nodded, retreating through the broken portcullis of the Gallows. There was a quiet agreement however, that nobody asked where Anders had disappeared to during the Hero and the Champion's banter.

"Yo, Hawke."

The mage turned from the boat they came on to look up at the Warden, still on the descending stairs. "You never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have."

Hawke started, and for a moment, there was just that dark cerulean stare aimed at him. Until Fenris grabbed his arm, he was stunned into silence. He jumped into the boat after the elf, dragging Isabela with him. She was still yelling cringe-worthy things to the Warden and Assassin, slipping into one of the alleys branching away from the Gallows.

"What do you think he meant by that, I wonder."

Hawke barely glanced at Fenris, the cool plate of the elf's gauntlet against his wrist. He shrugged, "Looks like the pub we were gonna build has to wait, Fen. I doubt that anyone will come when a mage is its barkeep. Even if it is called the Winchester."

* * *

xxx

* * *

AN: Ah Anders. The regular Relentless mascot. I doubt that the Marketing Team for an energy drink can really use the slogans of someone who wishes death on a particular group or association, though.

Still, imagining Anders as a misguided youth, drinking energy drinks and smoking fags amuses me. It also amuses me to imagine him as the crazy cat lady in the Simpsons.

I know my Warden would have probably killed Anders for the pyrotechnical show he puts on during the endgame. Lol. As you can tell, I tried to do a little background research on our favourite apostate, and found in one of the short stories about him that he actually killed most of the Wardens in his small group after bonding with Justice. And that kinda set Darian up for the killshot. After watching Alistair during the Fifth Blight, it's a natural brotherly reaction to bludgeon anything that threatens ones family.

Apparently.

Either that or the Warden would dance around the blaze signing Hot Hot Hot. Either way. I figured the Beat-em-up version of Darian was more believable, considering Awakening was spent beating most of the Followers and NPC characters into shape. I loved how they turned the entire thing into a Naruto episode. In the sense where The Hero beats up the enemy and recruits them.

Alistair always got angry when I recruited Zevran. Since I played Dragon Age 2 first, and met Zevran through that. After all his silly crap, I was like, must have. If our King could have seen the people I recruited in Awakening, he would probably have suffered a brain haemorrhage.

Howe's son, Apostate mage, Crazed Dalish, Oghren the Hammered, and Justice the Spirit-in-a-dead-Warden. Only Sigrun would have comforted him. Probably with slices of cheese. They could share.

As for the Winchester, if you haven't watched Shaun of the Dead, you should. When all goes to hell, where do you go? The pub. Nuff said. And as to why? In my headcannon, if stuff didn't happen as it did, Fenris and Hawke would have settled down somewhere, opened a pub, and every once in a while everyone would meet up for Wicked Grace.


End file.
